So I think I've got a decent chapter buffer. I mostly would like to post it to see how it will be received. I've been thinking about writing a fic for this fandom for a long as hell time now, and finally got around to it.
This is not a retelling, as you'll soon see, since there is major canon divergence. When I watched the movie, I wasn't satisfied with seeing the Boggans as the Generically Evil Orc Expy race, especially since decay and rot is so vital to the ecosystem. Their role in the film didn't seem to uphold the theme of balance at all and I wanted to address that. This story attempts to explore a variety of character relationships and interactions and expand on the two cultures of Boggans and Jinn. I've also taken some liberties with character backgrounds, particularly MK's. She's a bit aged up to around 23 in this story. I did a lot of research and work to write and develop this, so I hope you like! In any case, it's been fun to write.
Any feedback is welcome, though I greatly appreciate specificity if it can be managed. :)
Cheers!
Chapter 1. Freak Storm
"You're Bomba's daughter, aren't you?" The old woman behind the checkout peered at MK.
MK shook herself out of her reverie. "Um, yes? How did you know?"
"Larry mentioned bringing someone up to the old house the other day. But it's the red hair that's a dead giveaway."
MK squinted. "Who's Larry?"
"The cabbie, dear," said the clerk.
Even the cab driver knows everybody in town. What did I expect? MK thought, shoving her hands into her pockets. But what she said was, "Oh, that's nice."
The woman rang up MK's groceries and packed them in brown paper bags. "Is your father still tromping around in the woods?"
MK grimaced at the word choice. "He's still doing his research, yes." She fished in her bag for her cash.
The clerk frowned as she took the money and clicked her tongue. "I tell him every time not to go messing with the forest. He disturbs the aura."
"I—I'm sorry?" MK watched as the old woman slowly counted out the change and found herself wishing she just used a credit card. Then again, that option might not be any quicker.
"Well, you're new around here and a young'un so you're not as well versed in the local lore," the clerk replied.
"There's a lore," MK repeated.
"Oh yes, dear. The long and the short of it is that the forest is filled with guardian spirits who lead intruders astray. Hikers find themselves completely turned around. They seem to be straight shooting, but suddenly, they exit the trail right back where they started!" The woman leaned closer. "And not to mention the people who go missing from time to time when they go too deep."
"So you're saying people get lost in the woods sometimes. Spooky," MK said, taking her grocery bags from the clerk.
The clerk huffed. "Youths these days. Don't take the old legends seriously. That's why the forest claims them." She narrowed her eyes. "Do you go out wandering in the woods?"
"Yeah, I jog. But I stick to the trails."
"Make sure you leave an offering at the foot of the trail. Just to be safe."
"Right…"
A sales assistant walked by, carrying a load of boxes in his arms. "Marcy, quit scaring the new girl. We want her to like us."
Marcy huffed again. "I'm only trying to spread knowledge of the Oak Bridge culture. It's good to know the customs."
The assistant winked at MK. "Don't worry about it. It's just ghost stories." He grinned and headed down the aisles.
MK gave them what she hoped was a smile, then scooted out the door. Maybe that overpriced organic place down the road was worth a shot for next week's grocery run.
She biked up the winding hill from the town with the groceries wobbling in the basket and her ipod blaring in her ears. The door to the house remained unlocked, just as she left it, though she suspected that in the odd case that her dad did accidentally lock her out, all it would take was a swift kick to enter.
A stack of her dad's papers blocked part of the fridge door, and MK growled at him under her breath as she shoved it aside with her foot. Her earbuds continued to pulse with music as she busied herself with organizing the contents of the fridge. A tap on her shoulder made her jump backward into the fridge door. She whirled around.
"Jesus, Dad!"
Her dad recoiled, hands in the air. "Sorry! Sorry! You couldn't hear me."
MK yanked an earphone out and smoothed her hair back to compose herself. "Right, sorry. What's up?"
Bomba shuffled his feet. "I was asking how was town," he said finally.
MK stared at her father. "Dad, seriously."
"Just wanted to make sure you feel comfortable here," he said. He gave an uncertain smile.
MK paused long, trying to make sure her sigh came out as silently as possible. "It's fine, Dad. I told you not to worry about it. I won't even be here that long."
Her dad straightened. "Right, right, no more worrying. I remember the rules!" He tapped his head to show he had it.
She attempted a smile. "I've got this. Go on back to work." He brightened at the prospect of returning to territory more comfortable than small talk and scurried into his office. MK shook her head. He'd been completely absent from her life so long, with not a word to her or Mom, and now suddenly he was so concerned and in her face. If she wanted attention, she would have stayed in New York. Besides, there really was only one rule, and it was "Stop trying to look after me." Aside from the fact that she was twenty-three, and it was weird, of the two of them, he was the one more in need of looking after.
She finished up with storing the groceries and headed toward the stairs, stopping to straighten out some stacks of papers that her dad had left strewn about near the banisters. There were a few more hours to kill before dinner. MK opened her laptop and resumed the daily process of sorting through her files. Her eyes glossed over the browser icon on her desktop, and she contemplated checking her email. There had been a deluge of concern following her after she quit her nursing program and outright vanished from New York.
The thought of sifting through all of that, of continuing to assure everyone that she was fine, but needed a chance to start over, needed her space, and so on and so on, made her teeth clench, so she returned to her filing. Eventually they would stop asking. Eventually, her silence would say enough.
Wind rattled on the windows as another one of Oak Bridge's sudden squalls tore down the hillside. MK grumbled as she cleared her dad's reports off the table and set down a pair of plates covered in food.
She leaned into the doorway of his office. "Dad, dinner."
He grunted in response, scribbling furiously into his notebook. The blue light of the monitors haloed his form.
"Dad, you have five minutes to finish that train of thought and come nourish yourself, or I swear to God, I will reorganize every stack of paper in this house."
That elicited a high whine followed by: "Twenty minutes!"
"Ten."
"Fifteen!"
MK paused, chewing her lip. "Twelve and a half, and that's final." She made her way back into the kitchen and dramatically sat at the table for emphasis.
It was closer to fifteen anyway when he came out, but MK figured she would give him some leeway. She'd found that threatening to rearrange all of his paperwork, which apparently existed in some form of chaotic order known only to him, was an excellent means of motivating him to stop skipping meals. Maybe she wasn't a nurse anymore, but if she was going to let her own father go through any given day fueled solely by old Kit Kats and that nearly expired can of tuna at the back of the cupboard, then she could no longer profess to be a good person.
As she watched him devour his food, she considered again the possibility of staying longer than the intended six months. At least he seemed to be filling out after a week of her cooking.
Already, old emotions stirred themselves from their slumber. For a time, she worried her compassion had withered away and died with her mother, like it had developed a cancer of its own. MK allowed herself a brief smile, while her dad was kept distracted by food. In the remote quiet of the rural town, her soul had begun to breathe once more.
"MK, you should check out what I found today," her dad said after dutifully rinsing his plate off in the sink.
She paused from clearing away the food. "Just a sec." Holding the refrigerator door open with her foot, MK shoved the leftovers, neatly packed in tupperware, amidst the rest of the day's groceries. After a bit of shuffling, she let the door shut itself, satisfied that nothing would come tumbling out upon reopening.
Her dad was waiting for her in the dimly lit office, and he grinned in excitement when she entered. It was so remarkably like entertaining a child.
"What's up?"
He immediately crouched down over the monitor. "Check out this crazy weird behavior demonstrated by these birds." The screen flickered on with flurries of movement. MK leaned forward to peer at the grainy details.
"Okay. Not too sure what I'm looking at exactly," she said.
"Grackles chasing hummingbirds," her dad replied. At MK's blank stare, he pulled out a book. "Grackles aren't predatory of other birds. Their diet consists largely of seeds and insects. And," he pulled up new feeds on the other monitors, "I recorded this chase across several screening zones. It went on for a long time. Even if they were defending territory, a chase wouldn't cover this much range. As far as I know, this is not something that normally happens. Hummingbirds and grackles aren't even competing species! And," he whirled out of the office and back in with his satchel, "I found this when I went to investigate."
Her dad held something out to her, and MK opened her hands to take it. Into her cupped palms, he placed a tiny green saddle.
"Another one of those small objects," she said. The house was littered with them, carefully stowed in display cases which were, in turn, not so carefully strewn about on every surface imaginable.
"A hummingbird sized saddle," her father corrected her. "Now for whom might that be?"
"I dunno, Dad. It could just be some forest hermit who's really enthusiastic about tiny crafts." MK handed him back the saddle, and he pouted.
"Come on, is my theory really less plausible? Plus, how would you explain the artifacts that show up right in the backyard? My cameras would have picked up on any human or large animal."
MK shrugged. "A really stealthy hermit?"
Her dad only sighed. "So many people are enthusiastic about inhuman advanced civilizations existing out in space, yet they can't find it in themselves to believe one exists on their own planet?"
MK's expression softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll get there, Dad. You'll get a breakthrough one day."
Her dad smiled. "Yeah, you think so?"
"Definitely." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "I'm going to head up for the night. Make sure you don't stay up too late."
"I promise," he said as he sat back down at the computer, resuming his furious note-taking.
She took one last moment to regard him fondly before heading up the stairs to wind down for the night.
MK awoke to the steady rise of light filtering through her window. The air outside of the covers was still frigid, despite the warm, golden tinge, and she was careful to avoid touching the wooden floor as she put on her slippers. She shuffled down the stairs in her sweats to have breakfast and prepare for her morning jog. Her father was already nose-deep in his work by the time she'd gotten ready, so after hastily scribbling a note to him, MK made her way out the door.
The entrance to her favorite trail was only a little ways down the hill. Her backpack rattled and banged against her as she ran, but she refused to go anywhere without a hefty first aid kit. Old habits died hard. A brisk wind rumpled her hoodie as she ran, and she hoped there wouldn't be rain. The sun was promising, as were the news reports, but the weather in Oak Bridge didn't keep promises. She stopped at the mouth of the trail. Maybe she should leave a bit of her granola bar for the spirits or whatever. MK slapped her forehead. What the hell? No! Why are you getting so into that? It's just urban legend. You've been jogging these trails for a week and nothing weird has happened. It's fine.
MK let her mind wander to the beat of her music as her feet fell into a steady rhythm. Golden rays streamed through the leaves above, forming bands of sunlight on the ground. Occasional breaks in the leaf cover gave a view of the expansive sky, thick clouds gathering around the distant mountains. She breathed in deep, and the world smelled of life.
The trail wound its way through the rolling hills of the forest, ending in a lookout point. MK sat at the top, sipping her water and staring at the distant town below. She had to admit, the forest gave off an interesting vibe. If she listened hard enough, she could hear the susurration of song in between the rustling of the trees, soft as the ringing of ears amidst heavy silence. And maybe that was all it was. Still, it reminded her of the audio clip of the modulated bat cries her dad recorded. That one gave her chills, hearing what sounded like dark whispering in the background.
Her phone clock told her it was approaching mid-morning, and her dad would be needing lunch in a couple of hours, so she dusted herself off and began to jog down the trail again.
The distant hiss gave away the advent of rain. MK groaned, picking up the pace. Damn this temperamental weather. The hiss quickly became a drumroll, fat droplets hammering down as the wall of water overtook her. Her shoes sank deeper into the mulch with every step, forcing her to slow to a walk. Wind tore down the hillside soon after the rain arrived, making it nearly impossible to move in a straight line, and the visibility grew worse as the storm clouds blotted out all evidence of sun. MK huddled under the meager shelter of a tree, hoodie soaked clean through.
Twenty minutes later, it was still pouring. I should probably just try to get back down the hill, she thought. The longer she stayed out, the colder it got, and she wasn't ready to trust the Oak Bridge Hospital with her life if she got hypothermia.
Her legs responded sluggishly, already half numb. MK stumbled when her foot latched onto a root that her frozen nerves didn't register. She shook her head, exhaling sharply, and wrapped her arms tighter around herself.
Another root grabbed her. Another stumble and another attempt to right herself left her feet swiping at empty air as the trail dropped off down a slope. Her teeth slammed together from the force of her foot striking the ground far lower than her stride anticipated, and her legs buckled. The weight of the backpack pulled her into full-body tumble down the hill, and she only barely remembered to tuck her head to her chest. The thick mud caught her mid fall, sending her face first into the ground at the bottom and knocking her out cold.
The first thing she noticed upon waking was the pounding in her ears. The second thing was the cool, damp darkness that surrounded her face, and her mind staggered to the realization that she was still lying face first in the mulch. She remained there, letting the throbbing in her head die down before carefully pushing herself up. MK sat with her head between her knees, muddling through her thoughts. A small voice in her mind muttered something about concussions, and she fixated on it.
MK opened her eyes to look at her surroundings, then immediately shut them. Why the hell was everything so big? She tried again, staring at the new world around her. Thoughts were coming in more clearly, but nothing could reconcile with what she was seeing. She rose unsteadily. The plant next to her stood as tall as a tree, its massive leaves spread over her like broad awnings.
"Seriously, what the f—"
Something crashed through the trees—shrubbery—whatever, dragging a sharp scream from her throat. MK ducked down as the herd of large figures charged through the brush, shouting in guttural tones. Her breath caught in her throat as arrows whizzed through the air, and she cried out again when one of them found its mark in the strange figures.
It was then that she got a good look at them.
"Holy shit."
The amphibious creature limped for a moment, grabbing at the arrow sticking out of its hamstring before tearing it out with a roar and resuming its flight. It turned toward her and fixed its gaze on her, cowering amidst a tangle of plant matter.
MK's eyes widened as she noticed the club in its hand. The creature glanced up again, and MK could hear shouting voices drawing near. The strange thing growled at her before limping away after the rest of its pack. She remained where she sat, shuddering with adrenaline. The voices were close now, and she held still, hoping they wouldn't notice her.
A group of green-clad people hurtled into view, much more gracefully than the previous creatures. Most of them rushed past in pursuit, swords and bows at the ready. But one of them stopped short, reeling back and turning around, and MK felt her heart race with relief at the sight of a human face.
"Whoa, are you okay?" he asked, hurrying over to her.
"Oh my God, no. I need medical attention. What the hell just happened? What were those things?"
He frowned at her, like she'd just said something really weird. "Um, Boggans? Also, what is medical?"
MK blinked rapidly. "Wh—what?" They were speaking the same language, right?
"You don't look so good," he said.
"No, shit. I think I have a concussion. I need to go to the hospital."
"I have no idea what you're saying, but I think I should probably get you back to Moonhaven. What are you even doing this far out of the Brightwood anyway?"
He laughed shortly at the expression on MK's face. "Never mind, I think we're both confused right now. Let's just get you out of here."
At that, she nodded. "Yeah, that I agree with."
He helped her to her feet and guided her along the forest floor.
"Why does everything look so big?" she asked.
Her rescuer gave her another strange look. "It's about the regular size to me."
MK decided not to push it. They rounded a bend, and for the third time since waking, she screamed.
"Holy shit, that hummingbird is huge!"
I'll release Chapter 2 next week.
Thanks for reading!